


Tadfield Calling (To the Far-Away Towns)

by irisbleufic



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Driving, England (Country), Gen, M/M, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-27
Updated: 2009-08-27
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Right then," said Doris, pulling out her notebook.  "You lot aren't from 'round here, are you?  Inspector Angel's report from a few weeks ago mentions Tadfield."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Lower Tadfield," said the handsome blond one helpfully.  "It's not such a bad drive."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tadfield Calling (To the Far-Away Towns)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted to LJ in August of 2009.

**Not From 'Round Here**

Doris had been a bit surprised when she'd glanced over the report on the dustbin disturbance that Nicholas and Danny had filed. Apparently they hadn't _all_ been hippies; there had been four of them in total, all twenty-somethings, three young men and a red-haired girl who'd given them a considerable amount of cheek. Funny, really.

The latter being the hippie, judging by the lot standing in front of her.

"Right then," said Doris, pulling out her notebook. "You lot aren't from 'round here, are you? Inspector Angel's report from a few weeks ago mentions Tadfield."

"Lower Tadfield," said the handsome blond one helpfully. "It's not such a bad drive."

The girl looked like she'd like to smack him.

"So, we've got Adam, Brian, Wensley—" Doris hesitated for a moment, resisting the urge to smile "—Wensleydale, really? Like the cheese? I _love_ that. Anyhow. You must be Pepper."

The girl muttered something containing the phrase _powers of deduction_ , then straightened up, brushing ineffectually at her broomstick skirt. "Yes," she said.

"What's this odd fondness for bins?" Doris asked, glancing at all of them in sequence. "The Inspector reckons you lot were looking for recyclables, but you wouldn't tell him why you were there. Sergeant Butterman says he fair to turned on the charm, too, and he ain't got a lot of that." _Unless you_ are _Danny, in which case you think he's got it in spades_. Doris had to admit that being stupidly in love suited them.

"Constable Thatcher, Ma'am," said the one called Wensleydale, "we _did_ tell them."

"Yeah," said the one named Brian. "It's just that they don't remember."

"Oh?" Doris asked. My, but that Adam was _handsome_ when he smiled.

"Yes," confirmed Adam, clearly the ringleader. "And we'll gladly tell you, too. But you won't remember, either. That's how it works, you see. We have a job to do."

Doris nodded. It made about as much sense as the plotlines of Danny's flip-comics.

"We're cleaning up after the mess the previous owner left," said Pepper, taking a step forward. "And yes, we're picking up recyclables as we go along. But it's mostly about mopping up the residual evil influence. Minor demons and such tend to like bins and skips. We caught four of the buggers last time, and not all demons, either."

"There are still a couple more hanging about," said Adam, his tone exasperated, yet strangely fond. "If you leave us to it, I'm sure we'll have them cleared out in no time."

Brian and Wensleydale nodded encouragingly.

Doris just stared at them. "Demons," she said. "In the Somerfield bins?"

All four of them nodded, even more encouragingly.

"Right," Doris said, making note of exactly what they'd said. They couldn't erase ink, for crying out loud. With all due respect, Danny and the Inspector had probably forgot because they were too busy snogging on the job to even think of taking notes.

"If you don't mind," continued Adam, "we're going to pretend to leave now, and you're going to head back to the station and tell them we were looking for recyclables again."

"I'm afraid I'll have to issue you a warning," said Doris. "This is private property."

"Go right ahead," Pepper said. "Issue us anything you bloody well want."

"Ooh!" said Doris. "Language." She wrote it down, but Adam was _smiling_ again, and...

At the next morning's meeting, Inspector Angel announced his plans for a village-wide recycling program. Public bins for plastic, glass, and paper—the whole lot.

Doris could only hope that if the smart-arsed girl and handsome boy ever paid Sandford a visit by way of a good, law-abiding holiday, they'd approve.

**You Can't Get There From Here**

"Are you _sure_?" asked Nicholas Angel, brow deeply furrowed, squinting at the map. "Because I could have _sworn_ that last turning was the correct—"

"Alas, no," said the gentleman in spectacles, taking the map off of him and flipping it around. "You should have waited till the next one. Horrid places, aren't they, these back roads? As I was saying to Crowley, I don't know how he _ever_ remembers how to get from here to there, because—"

"Get back in the _car_ , angel," said an impatient voice. Danny did his best to squint over Nicholas's shoulder, out the window, and past the gentleman in spectacles. The man at the wheel of the Bentley had on sunglasses _entirely_ too dark for driving in. He wondered if he ought to issue him some cautionary instructions, then caught Nicholas's expression out of the corner of his eye and thought better of it.

"One moment, my dear," said the spectacled man, mildly. "There you are. All sorted!"

"Yes, thank you," Nicholas murmured, turning the map around once or twice before turning back to Danny. "I could have _sworn_ —"

"That man's glasses were too dark!" blurted Danny as the Bentley sped away. " _And_ they're over the speed limit. Fire up the roof?"

"No," sighed Nicholas. "And what do you _mean_ his glasses were too dark? Those were clearly reading spectacles!"

" _No_ ," Danny said. "I meant the _other_ one. Oh, never mind. Let's get out of here; I'm _starving_. Did he say anything about stop-overs?"

Nicholas sighed and rolled up the window. 

"Who am I to begrudge _anybody_ an awesome pair of shades?"

 _Too right_ , Danny thought, and resumed map duty. Nice enough blokes, anyway. Once in a while, it was good to know that one wasn't alone in the world. Well. Not _alone_ alone, seeing as he had Nicholas, but it was the principle of the thing.


End file.
